


Eclipsed

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Break Up, Sun/Moon Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: I can always feel him with me.Not to be horrendously clichéd, but it’s always been that way.--AKA, The Sad One Post Break-Up
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Eclipsed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/gifts).



> Written for the first Carry On Countdown prompt, Sun/Moon! 
> 
> Inspired by [ The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff) 's GORGEOUS art posted for the prompt, which you should take a peek at [here](https://thehoneyedhufflepuff.tumblr.com/post/189290038487/carry-on-countdown-day-1#notes)! 
> 
> Thanks many many to Icarus and The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff for being lovely betas and humans. (And to Icarus for, uh, naming this fic.) <3
> 
> And thanks many many to y'all for reading!

BAZ 

I can always feel him with me. 

Not to be horrendously clichéd, but it’s always been that way. 

Probably because, at first, he  _ was.  _ Always following me around. Constantly watching me. Keeping tabs. Even when I didn’t want him to be, he was physically  _ there _ . And when he wasn’t, I couldn’t get him out of my head. 

It was a special kind of torture. 

It was a life raft at one point. In the coffin. The only thing keeping me going. Keeping me from letting go. 

And then I was back and things were semi-back to normal. 

Until the truce, which led to the Christmas in Hampshire, which led to the kiss, which led to… the rest. 

To  _ us _ . 

And, ultimately, I suppose, our downfall. 

SIMON

I don’t know what happened. 

Well, I suppose I know what  _ happened _ . I just never figured out how to fix it. 

Penny tries to comfort me by telling me we simply grew apart, but we both know that’s not the truth. We didn’t grow apart, I shoved him so hard he got sick of fighting. 

This had always been better than fighting, but at this point, I’d take the fight. I’d give anything for him to push me down a flight of stairs, because at least then he’d be caring enough to do  _ something _ . 

At least then he’d touch me. 

Penny also likes to remind me that we were complete opposites, he’s the moon and I’m the sun, he’s evil and I’m good. As if that could explain away anything. 

He’s not evil, though, and I’m not sure I’ve a right to be compared to something like the sun anymore. The sun is powerful, bright, and nourishing. The sun brings forth life, lights the way. 

I’ve become something murkier. Something darker. If I’m the sun, I’ve been eclipsed. 

Being without him it feels like a total solar eclipse. 

Dark. 

Bleak. 

Cold. 

BAZ

It’s been a year and I’m still completely, hopelessly in love with Simon Snow. 

There’s not a moment that passes that I don’t wonder what I could have done differently. If I could have tried harder. If I should have fought more. 

It’s been a year and I can still see his unremarkable blue eyes, filled to the brim with tears. 

It’s been a year and I can feel his hand, and the way his fingers slipped through the spaces between mine as I pulled away. 

It’s been a year and I’ve spent all 365 days being swallowed by regret. 

Expecting me to get over Simon Snow is like expecting the moon to fall from the sky. 

SIMON 

I should have held on tighter while I had the chance. 

I shouldn’t have  _ let  _ him leave, I shouldn’t have  _ wanted  _ him to. 

I kick a stone across the pavement, letting the bottoms of my already worn-through trainers scrape concrete. 

Penny says we need milk and bread and something else, and I’m hoping I’ll remember by the time I reach the store. Our usual store closed down, so I have to go a little further out of the way, but I like the walk. 

I don’t get out much, as much as Penny tries to make me. This is really the only time I leave the sofa, when Penny sets me off with a task. 

This new store is cold when I step in, and I shiver. But I’m on a mission. 

I fight against the sludge in my gut, will the darkness back to the edges of my mind just long enough for this one task. 

_ Milk. And bread. And…  _

I wander back to the dairy section, I find the weird milk that Penny likes. 

_ Milk. Bread. And…  _

I tuck the carton under my arm, follow the smell of freshly baked sweets to the bakery. 

_ Bread. And…  _

It takes all of my concentration to remember what type of bread Penny likes. (She has very particular tastes and I’m not entirely convinced it’s not just so I have to think harder when I go out and buy things.) I don’t notice that there’s someone next to me, and I don’t notice when I turn right into them, knocking both my carton of milk and their carton of eggs to the floor. 

Both products splatter, milky egg yolks surrounding the tile beneath our feet, and it takes more strength than it should to lift my head up to look the victim of my sins in the eye. 

My breath catches when I do, and I think his does, too. It sounds like his does. I would know that sound anywhere, the sharp inhale through his nose, air getting caught at the back of his throat. I know that sound well for so many other reasons, I feel a blush start to creep up my neck.

“‘M sorry,” I finally muster at the same time he breathes, “ _ Simon _ .” 

And my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, at the sound of my name. At that familiar voice. At the  _ smile _ on his lips, the smile I  _ know _ he’s trying to fight down because I’ve seen him try to fight it so many times. 

But he can’t, he’s failing. It’s been a year, and a messy break up, and absolutely no communication, but he’s seen me now and he’s still  _ smiling at me _ . 

I can’t remember the last time I felt my heart actually beat. But now it’s going double time, and the sludge that usually resides in my gut and chest and the edges of my head suddenly melts away. The darkness is beginning to fade, and I can just see a ring of light making an appearance. 

He’s looking at me like I’m the sun. 

But I’m not, I’m the one that’s been casting a shadow over him this whole time. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [@pipsqueakparker](pipsqueakparker.tumblr.com), especially if you're interested in anything else I post for the Carry On Countdown. 
> 
> (I make no promises to doing every day, but they'll mostly be pretty short and I may just post 'em straight to Tumblr.)


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